Expect More
Title: Expect More
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Peter
Rating: PG-13 contains male/male kissing and mentions of suicide
Summary: A few days after the carnival incident Momma Petrelli calls asking for a visit from her son and the recently reformed killer crashing with
him in his apartment. This was written for the Sylar/Peter advent calendar.
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“My mother wants us to pay her a visit today,” Peter said as he placed the phone back in its receiver.
“What?!” Sylar sputtered as he looked up from the book he was reading. “As in both of us?”
“Looks like it.”
“And you told her yes?”
“Yeah, it’s about time that she realizes you’ve changed. Besides this way she’ll finally get off my back about housing a psycho killer in my apartment.”
“Peter if it’s an inconvenience I told you that I can--”
“--No, I don’t want to hear it Gabriel. I was joking around, I want you to stay here. You’re trying to find a whole new way to live your life and I’m not about to let you go through that alone.”
“Thanks Peter, that really means a lot,” Sylar said as he gave Peter a shy smile. Peter grinned back and lightly rapped him on the arm.
“Ok, now how about we get that visit out of the way?” Sylar looked down at his feet and let out a sigh. It was clear to Peter how much the idea worried Sylar, not that he could blame him, it was his mother after all. “Hey don’t worry. I’ll make sure that she doesn’t lock you up in level 5 or anything like that.”
“You promise?” Sylar asked. Peter almost laughed before he caught the serious look in Sylar’s eye.
“Yeah, I promise.” Sylar gave a small nod and let out another sigh.
“Alright, let’s get going then.”
When they got out onto the sidewalk, Peter hailed a cab and Sylar was the first to slide in. Peter popped in right behind him and his leg pressed against Sylar’s as he leaned forward to give the cabbie the address before he moved over to his respective side of the backseat. The contact, however quick, sent a soft thrill up Sylar’s leg to his heart.
Sylar and Peter had gotten along surprisingly well these past few days following the events at the carnival. Peter had gone back to work, Sylar had moved into Peter’s apartment and in postponement of figuring the rest of his life out, had spent his days filling Peter’s apartment back up with furniture and giving it a thorough cleaning. Peter didn’t seem to mind.
Without all the pressures of having to break out of the nightmare, and with the reassurance that Peter had finally forgiven him and believed that he had changed, Sylar found himself and Peter more at ease with each other than they ever had been before. Sylar chalked this up to bonding through trauma, but in any case he believed that Peter now saw him as a friend. Sylar wished he only saw Peter as just that, but he couldn’t deny his feelings. Somewhere during the five years in the nightmare where Peter had been his entire world, Sylar discovered something he had been carrying around with him possibly since the day he had met the golden boy: he was in love with Peter Petrelli. He could never admit this to Peter though, of course. He had no hopes that Peter would ever feel the same way. Even if you took away the fact that he had killed his brother, there was nothing about him that was worth affection from a man like Peter and that was just the way it was. So he would settle for Peter’s friendship because god knows he doesn’t even deserve that much and he would be happy with what he could get. As long as he was with Peter, he knew that everything would be fine.
The taxi pulled to a stop in front of the Petrelli Mansion. Peter paid the driver and they both slid out and stood in front of the door for a moment. A million memories seemed to rush through Sylar’s brain at the sight of it and he realized that those must have been Nathan’s. He hadn’t even considered that downside to this whole experience. He would have to make sure he kept a firm hand on what he said in front of Peter. There was no easier way of sending them all the way back to square one than for him to start channeling Nathan.
Peter rang the doorbell and Sylar stood behind him timidly. A servant opened the door and directed them to wait in the study. Sylar and Peter both sat down on an old brown leather couch. Sylar started wringing his hands nervously in his lap. Peter laid a reassuring hand on his wrist.
“You’re doing great,” Peter said with a smile. Sylar felt the butterflies in his stomach start to fly for an entirely different reason and he couldn’t help but smile back. That was when Simon and Monty decided to burst into the room.
“Uncle Peter!” they shouted as they clambered up on top of him, wrapping their arms around him.
“Well, hey I’m happy to see you too!” Peter laughed out happily. Sylar’s face went pale as if he had seen a ghost. Those boys, his sons, no -- wait, no, he wasn’t their father, Nathan was their father, the man he murdered. Sylar couldn’t understand what he was feeling, it was as if one moment he wanted to shower the boys with love and the next beg for their forgiveness. Simon suddenly seemed to notice the man sitting next to his uncle and looked at him curiously. He held out his hand in the offer of a handshake, he was a Petrelli after all.
“Hi, my name’s Simon, have we met before?” Sylar swallowed uncomfortably and tentatively reached out and shook the boys hand. His clairsentience decided to bombard his mind with images and memories, many of them involving Nathan, but somehow he managed to retain his focus and give a gentle shake of his head with a small, weak smile.
“No, I don’t think you have. My name’s Gabriel Grey.” Peter seemed to know exactly what was going on inside Sylar’s head and proceeded to distract his nephews.
“Hey why don’t we leave Gabriel alone for a bit and you guys can show me what you’ve been up to. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten the chance to see you.” The boys started babbling excitedly and all but dragged Peter out of the study towards their rooms. Sylar mouthed a silent thank you to Peter as he walked away.
“I’ll be back real soon Gabriel, I promise,” Peter said with that crooked grin of his as he shut the door behind him. Sylar let out a sigh of relief and sunk back into the cushions.
“Those poor boys. It reminds you who the true victims are in all of this.” Sylar gave a startled gasp at the sound of her voice. He had not heard Angela enter the room. She might as well be a vampire with the way she could sneak up on him. Sylar tried to remain calm and keep in mind what Peter had told him.
“Hello Angela.”
“Hello Sylar.”
“I’m actually going by Gabriel now.”
“That’s nice.” He took that to mean that she was going to stick with ‘Sylar’. He took a deep breath and let it out. He knew what he had to say to her, he just didn’t believe hat he was actually going to do it.
“Angela, I know that we have our sordid history and I know that you have your own share of the blame, but I want you to know that I am genuinely sorry for everything that I have done to you and your family, especially for taking away Nathan from you. I can’t change the past, but I am going to do my best to repent for what I have done.”
A strange expression seemed to flicker in Angela’s eye before the detached mask she usually wore slipped back into place.
“That is nice to hear, but I am afraid actions speak louder than words. Do not imagine that one good deed and my son’s blind faith can secure a path for you. The fact of the matter is that despite all your well wishes you have still forced your presence into my now only son’s life and serve as a burden for him as well a constant reminder of his brother’s death.”
“Peter has...”
“Do not think that I will pretend to be as ignorant as Peter. Your reasons for living with him are entirely selfish. You are infatuated with my son to the point of a school-girl-like devotion and place in him all your hopes of achieving any level of normalcy or true human connection.” Sylar could feel his shame and anger start to boil within him. He needed to get out of this house, now. He stood up and quickly started to make his way toward the door.
“I don’t have to listen to this.”
“If you have any remorse for what you have done you will.” That stopped him dead in his tracks. “You do realize that he’ll never feel anything for you, don’t you?”
“I don’t expect him to.”
“And what will happen when you see his affections directed towards somebody else? I can just imagine what would happen if you caught Peter and Emma kissing. I suppose they would just be another two names to add to your body count.”
“Enough!” Sylar saw red as he flung out his hand and pinned Angela against the wall with telekinesis. He could feel the familiar sensation of raw power flooding through his body. He embraced it like an old friend. He could hear the sound of ticking clocks, all of them off beat like nails on a chalkboard in his head. He knew that all it would take would be to silence Angela’s and then everything would click back into place with the heavenly sound of perfect order. Without thinking he lifted his fingers and prepared to end it, but nothing happened. Slowly his senses returned to him and the flash of red faded from his vision. What have I done?
He released his hold on Angela and she tumbled to the floor in shock. He stared back at her, the horror at what he had tried to do plain on his face. He let loose a cry of desperation and slashed at a nearby desk with telekinesis, smashing it to pieces.
“I didn’t mean-- I don’t want-- Why did you have to-- Why does this-- Gah! I’m sorry!” He didn’t want to be there when Angela came to her senses and called in the Company to come and get him. He had to leave. He burst through the study door and ran toward the front door. He could see Peter running towards him from the opposite direction.
“I heard the noise. What happened?” Sylar couldn’t bear to look at him and just rushed on past him.
“Peter I’m sorry, I have to go.” Then he was gone, out the front door and then rocketing through the skies back to the apartment, not caring if anyone happened to see. Flying had a way of calming him down and he didn’t care if it was simply Nathan’s memories that caused that reaction. He was soon back at Peter’s apartment and landed on the fire escape before using telekinesis to open a window to sneak inside through.
He’d just be a second, he told himself. He’d pack up a few things, take off and go into hiding. He’d drop off the map, go someplace where no one would think to look for him, someplace where he’d be isolated from anyone he might hurt. Maybe Alaska, he’d always wanted to go there. He could go buy a cabin in the woods and be safe and everyone would be safe from him.
He took a deep breath and walked into the bathroom. He splashed some cold water on his face and his eyes met with his reflection. So this was it. He had spent all those years in the nightmare promising himself that he would become a better person, that he would do better, prove to everyone that he could change and he had barely lasted a week before he gave in to his old ways. He disgusted himself. All that time spent trying to escape and now he was choosing to spend the rest of his life alone, it seemed like the only choice left for him.
I should just let the Company come and get me, he thought to himself as he looked back into his own eyes. The best thing I can do for the world is to rid itself of me. His face twisted in rage and frustration and he brought his fist smashing into the mirror. There had probably been an added push of force from telekinesis and he watched as the shards of glass fell onto the tiled floor. One jagged piece in particular caught his eye and he reached down to pick it up. Slowly he reached around behind his back and poised the shard above the lump where his neck met his shoulders: the new location of his ‘sweet spot’. He cringed as he felt the tip scratch his skin and his hand shook as he tried to pull himself together in preparation for one last final push, but try as he might he just couldn’t do it. He cried out in frustration and collapsed onto the floor ignoring the scattered pieces of glass.
“Sylar.” Sylar looked up and saw Peter standing in the doorway staring at him. How long have I been sitting here? He quickly rubbed an arm across his eyes, trying not to let Peter see him cry, and shot up onto his feet.
“Peter.” Sylar looked embarrassedly around at the mess he had created. “Don’t worry I’m leaving. I’ll send money to pay for all this. It’s probably for the best that I finally get out of your hair, let you get back to things.” Sylar made a move to step forward, but Peter blocked his path, his arm pointedly gripping the side of the doorway.
“I’m not letting you go anywhere,” Peter said sternly. Sylar felt his face pale. He should have known that Peter was only here to stop him from escaping, he probably expected him to go out on another killing spree. He didn’t blame him. He wasn’t going to fight it, he’d let Peter take him to the Company. He’d accept it willingly.
Sylar looked down at his feet. His voice barely above a whisper. “Alright I understand.It’s probably for the best. It’s fitting for you to be the one to take me in. I promise I won’t put up a fight, I’ll go quietly."
“What are you talking about?” Sylar looked up into Peter’s eyes.
“You’re here to take me in to the Company, aren’t you?” A shocked expression crossed Peter’s face.
“No, why would I?” It was Sylar’s turn to look shocked.
“Why would you? How about because I attacked and almost killed your mother.”
“But you didn’t kill her.”
“No, but I tried to.”
“You still chose not to. Sylar I understand. My mom provoked you. She wanted to convince me that you hadn’t changed. Seems like her plan backfired, now she’s starting to believe that you have.”
“I don’t understand. How did I demonstrate anything other than the fact that I’m still nothing more than a monster?” Sylar couldn’t help it, tears were starting to form in his eyes again. He tried to wipe them away and felt Peter’s warm hand rub up and down his shoulder. He looked up in surprise.
“Sylar, you didn’t hurt her. My mom’s fine. The only thing damaged was that old desk and I’m pretty sure it had it coming.” Sylar smiled at joke. “So you got mad? Big deal. In the end you were still the one in control, not your powers.”
“Thank you Peter.” Peter smiled.
“Don’t mention it Gabriel.” Hearing Peter say his birth name made Sylar feel almost elated, but then Angela’s words wormed their way back into his mind. What would he do if Peter started seeing somebody? What would happen if his jealousy got the best of him? He couldn’t risk that with Peter. He sighed. He knew he still had to leave.
“Peter I still think it would be best if I move out.” Peter just shook his head.
“How many times do I have to tell you? No, that isn’t happening.” Sylar pushed past Peter angrily, frustrated that Peter would never be able to grasp the kind of trouble his righteousness could land him in.
“Peter you don’t understand.” Peter whirled around to face him.
“Explain it to me then,” Peter said as he pushed Sylar down onto the couch and sat down beside him. Sylar grasped for words.
“This... dynamic between us could really cause problems. I don’t want you to get hurt,” Sylar said exasperatedly. Peter shot him a puzzled look.
“I thought we were friends?”
“We are.” Sylar’s stomach did a little flip. It felt so good to hear Peter say it.
“Then what’s the problem?” Sylar turned his head and looked away. He couldn’t tell Peter. Then he felt Peter’s hand gently pull his face back towards his.
“Gabriel...” Sylar couldn’t stand it. He grabbed the back of Peter’s head and pulled them together, mashing his lips up against Peter’s. The smell of Peter filled his nostrils and he drunk it in like a man dying of thirst, then he realized how Peter’s body had stiffened against his and he released him instantly, shocked at what he had done and disgusted at allowing his impulses to take control again. He didn’t dare to look Peter in the eye and see the look of horror he knew was waiting for him there. That is why it came as something of a surprise when he felt Peter’s hands grip either side of his face and bring his lips back to meet his. His eyes were blown wide with shock as he struggled to push away.
“Wait. I don’t understand.” Peter rubbed his hand along the side of his face and smiled.
“What’s to understand? I want to kiss you.” Peter punctuated his point with a long, drawn-out chaste kiss. Sylar looked at him with pupils blown wide with desire and eyes half-hooded by pleasure. His mind had seemed to shut down and he surrendered to the new sensation of complete and utter bliss.
“Alright I guess, as long as we’re on the same page,” he said with something of a stupid grin plastered on his face. Peter’s face broke out into a crooked smile and he leaned in again for a kiss that was anything but chaste.
His lips moved against Sylar’s slowly, massaging each other. One of his hands reached up for a loose grip in Sylar’s hair, while the other was rubbing gentle circles into the back of Sylar’s neck with its thumb. Sylar had wrapped his arms around Peter’s waste and was hugging their bodies close together. Gently Peter nibbled at Sylar’s bottom lip, begging him to open them. Sylar did with a soft gasp and Peter plunged his tongue into his mouth. He gently caressed Sylar’s tongue with his own, savoring his taste. Sylar let out a soft moan before responding hungrily in kind. Pools of warmth and pleasure were blossoming throughout Peter’s body and he languored in the sensation of his peaking arousal.
Slowly he pushed Sylar’s body backwards, pressing his back down into the cushions. He moved forward and slipped between Sylar’s legs. Pulling back for a quick breather, Peter took in the sight before him. Sylar’s chest was heaving with quick labored pants. His face was flushed, his hair disheveled, his lips swollen and red from kissing. In that moment he looked more vulnerable, more happy, and more drop-dead gorgeous than Peter had ever seen him. Peter smiled to himself and bit down on his lower lip. He certainly hoped that Sylar was up for more than kissing.
--The End--
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I do plan on continuing this fic into at least one other part. This part was already getting too long for my liking and I thought it might be better if the really smexy part was devoted its own section. ; )
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Sylar/Peter
Rating: PG-13 contains male/male kissing and mentions of suicide
Summary: A few days after the carnival incident Momma Petrelli calls asking for a visit from her son and the recently reformed killer crashing with
him in his apartment. This was written for the Sylar/Peter advent calendar.
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“My mother wants us to pay her a visit today,” Peter said as he placed the phone back in its receiver.
“What?!” Sylar sputtered as he looked up from the book he was reading. “As in both of us?”
“Looks like it.”
“And you told her yes?”
“Yeah, it’s about time that she realizes you’ve changed. Besides this way she’ll finally get off my back about housing a psycho killer in my apartment.”
“Peter if it’s an inconvenience I told you that I can--”
“--No, I don’t want to hear it Gabriel. I was joking around, I want you to stay here. You’re trying to find a whole new way to live your life and I’m not about to let you go through that alone.”
“Thanks Peter, that really means a lot,” Sylar said as he gave Peter a shy smile. Peter grinned back and lightly rapped him on the arm.
“Ok, now how about we get that visit out of the way?” Sylar looked down at his feet and let out a sigh. It was clear to Peter how much the idea worried Sylar, not that he could blame him, it was his mother after all. “Hey don’t worry. I’ll make sure that she doesn’t lock you up in level 5 or anything like that.”
“You promise?” Sylar asked. Peter almost laughed before he caught the serious look in Sylar’s eye.
“Yeah, I promise.” Sylar gave a small nod and let out another sigh.
“Alright, let’s get going then.”
When they got out onto the sidewalk, Peter hailed a cab and Sylar was the first to slide in. Peter popped in right behind him and his leg pressed against Sylar’s as he leaned forward to give the cabbie the address before he moved over to his respective side of the backseat. The contact, however quick, sent a soft thrill up Sylar’s leg to his heart.
Sylar and Peter had gotten along surprisingly well these past few days following the events at the carnival. Peter had gone back to work, Sylar had moved into Peter’s apartment and in postponement of figuring the rest of his life out, had spent his days filling Peter’s apartment back up with furniture and giving it a thorough cleaning. Peter didn’t seem to mind.
Without all the pressures of having to break out of the nightmare, and with the reassurance that Peter had finally forgiven him and believed that he had changed, Sylar found himself and Peter more at ease with each other than they ever had been before. Sylar chalked this up to bonding through trauma, but in any case he believed that Peter now saw him as a friend. Sylar wished he only saw Peter as just that, but he couldn’t deny his feelings. Somewhere during the five years in the nightmare where Peter had been his entire world, Sylar discovered something he had been carrying around with him possibly since the day he had met the golden boy: he was in love with Peter Petrelli. He could never admit this to Peter though, of course. He had no hopes that Peter would ever feel the same way. Even if you took away the fact that he had killed his brother, there was nothing about him that was worth affection from a man like Peter and that was just the way it was. So he would settle for Peter’s friendship because god knows he doesn’t even deserve that much and he would be happy with what he could get. As long as he was with Peter, he knew that everything would be fine.
The taxi pulled to a stop in front of the Petrelli Mansion. Peter paid the driver and they both slid out and stood in front of the door for a moment. A million memories seemed to rush through Sylar’s brain at the sight of it and he realized that those must have been Nathan’s. He hadn’t even considered that downside to this whole experience. He would have to make sure he kept a firm hand on what he said in front of Peter. There was no easier way of sending them all the way back to square one than for him to start channeling Nathan.
Peter rang the doorbell and Sylar stood behind him timidly. A servant opened the door and directed them to wait in the study. Sylar and Peter both sat down on an old brown leather couch. Sylar started wringing his hands nervously in his lap. Peter laid a reassuring hand on his wrist.
“You’re doing great,” Peter said with a smile. Sylar felt the butterflies in his stomach start to fly for an entirely different reason and he couldn’t help but smile back. That was when Simon and Monty decided to burst into the room.
“Uncle Peter!” they shouted as they clambered up on top of him, wrapping their arms around him.
“Well, hey I’m happy to see you too!” Peter laughed out happily. Sylar’s face went pale as if he had seen a ghost. Those boys, his sons, no -- wait, no, he wasn’t their father, Nathan was their father, the man he murdered. Sylar couldn’t understand what he was feeling, it was as if one moment he wanted to shower the boys with love and the next beg for their forgiveness. Simon suddenly seemed to notice the man sitting next to his uncle and looked at him curiously. He held out his hand in the offer of a handshake, he was a Petrelli after all.
“Hi, my name’s Simon, have we met before?” Sylar swallowed uncomfortably and tentatively reached out and shook the boys hand. His clairsentience decided to bombard his mind with images and memories, many of them involving Nathan, but somehow he managed to retain his focus and give a gentle shake of his head with a small, weak smile.
“No, I don’t think you have. My name’s Gabriel Grey.” Peter seemed to know exactly what was going on inside Sylar’s head and proceeded to distract his nephews.
“Hey why don’t we leave Gabriel alone for a bit and you guys can show me what you’ve been up to. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten the chance to see you.” The boys started babbling excitedly and all but dragged Peter out of the study towards their rooms. Sylar mouthed a silent thank you to Peter as he walked away.
“I’ll be back real soon Gabriel, I promise,” Peter said with that crooked grin of his as he shut the door behind him. Sylar let out a sigh of relief and sunk back into the cushions.
“Those poor boys. It reminds you who the true victims are in all of this.” Sylar gave a startled gasp at the sound of her voice. He had not heard Angela enter the room. She might as well be a vampire with the way she could sneak up on him. Sylar tried to remain calm and keep in mind what Peter had told him.
“Hello Angela.”
“Hello Sylar.”
“I’m actually going by Gabriel now.”
“That’s nice.” He took that to mean that she was going to stick with ‘Sylar’. He took a deep breath and let it out. He knew what he had to say to her, he just didn’t believe hat he was actually going to do it.
“Angela, I know that we have our sordid history and I know that you have your own share of the blame, but I want you to know that I am genuinely sorry for everything that I have done to you and your family, especially for taking away Nathan from you. I can’t change the past, but I am going to do my best to repent for what I have done.”
A strange expression seemed to flicker in Angela’s eye before the detached mask she usually wore slipped back into place.
“That is nice to hear, but I am afraid actions speak louder than words. Do not imagine that one good deed and my son’s blind faith can secure a path for you. The fact of the matter is that despite all your well wishes you have still forced your presence into my now only son’s life and serve as a burden for him as well a constant reminder of his brother’s death.”
“Peter has...”
“Do not think that I will pretend to be as ignorant as Peter. Your reasons for living with him are entirely selfish. You are infatuated with my son to the point of a school-girl-like devotion and place in him all your hopes of achieving any level of normalcy or true human connection.” Sylar could feel his shame and anger start to boil within him. He needed to get out of this house, now. He stood up and quickly started to make his way toward the door.
“I don’t have to listen to this.”
“If you have any remorse for what you have done you will.” That stopped him dead in his tracks. “You do realize that he’ll never feel anything for you, don’t you?”
“I don’t expect him to.”
“And what will happen when you see his affections directed towards somebody else? I can just imagine what would happen if you caught Peter and Emma kissing. I suppose they would just be another two names to add to your body count.”
“Enough!” Sylar saw red as he flung out his hand and pinned Angela against the wall with telekinesis. He could feel the familiar sensation of raw power flooding through his body. He embraced it like an old friend. He could hear the sound of ticking clocks, all of them off beat like nails on a chalkboard in his head. He knew that all it would take would be to silence Angela’s and then everything would click back into place with the heavenly sound of perfect order. Without thinking he lifted his fingers and prepared to end it, but nothing happened. Slowly his senses returned to him and the flash of red faded from his vision. What have I done?
He released his hold on Angela and she tumbled to the floor in shock. He stared back at her, the horror at what he had tried to do plain on his face. He let loose a cry of desperation and slashed at a nearby desk with telekinesis, smashing it to pieces.
“I didn’t mean-- I don’t want-- Why did you have to-- Why does this-- Gah! I’m sorry!” He didn’t want to be there when Angela came to her senses and called in the Company to come and get him. He had to leave. He burst through the study door and ran toward the front door. He could see Peter running towards him from the opposite direction.
“I heard the noise. What happened?” Sylar couldn’t bear to look at him and just rushed on past him.
“Peter I’m sorry, I have to go.” Then he was gone, out the front door and then rocketing through the skies back to the apartment, not caring if anyone happened to see. Flying had a way of calming him down and he didn’t care if it was simply Nathan’s memories that caused that reaction. He was soon back at Peter’s apartment and landed on the fire escape before using telekinesis to open a window to sneak inside through.
He’d just be a second, he told himself. He’d pack up a few things, take off and go into hiding. He’d drop off the map, go someplace where no one would think to look for him, someplace where he’d be isolated from anyone he might hurt. Maybe Alaska, he’d always wanted to go there. He could go buy a cabin in the woods and be safe and everyone would be safe from him.
He took a deep breath and walked into the bathroom. He splashed some cold water on his face and his eyes met with his reflection. So this was it. He had spent all those years in the nightmare promising himself that he would become a better person, that he would do better, prove to everyone that he could change and he had barely lasted a week before he gave in to his old ways. He disgusted himself. All that time spent trying to escape and now he was choosing to spend the rest of his life alone, it seemed like the only choice left for him.
I should just let the Company come and get me, he thought to himself as he looked back into his own eyes. The best thing I can do for the world is to rid itself of me. His face twisted in rage and frustration and he brought his fist smashing into the mirror. There had probably been an added push of force from telekinesis and he watched as the shards of glass fell onto the tiled floor. One jagged piece in particular caught his eye and he reached down to pick it up. Slowly he reached around behind his back and poised the shard above the lump where his neck met his shoulders: the new location of his ‘sweet spot’. He cringed as he felt the tip scratch his skin and his hand shook as he tried to pull himself together in preparation for one last final push, but try as he might he just couldn’t do it. He cried out in frustration and collapsed onto the floor ignoring the scattered pieces of glass.
“Sylar.” Sylar looked up and saw Peter standing in the doorway staring at him. How long have I been sitting here? He quickly rubbed an arm across his eyes, trying not to let Peter see him cry, and shot up onto his feet.
“Peter.” Sylar looked embarrassedly around at the mess he had created. “Don’t worry I’m leaving. I’ll send money to pay for all this. It’s probably for the best that I finally get out of your hair, let you get back to things.” Sylar made a move to step forward, but Peter blocked his path, his arm pointedly gripping the side of the doorway.
“I’m not letting you go anywhere,” Peter said sternly. Sylar felt his face pale. He should have known that Peter was only here to stop him from escaping, he probably expected him to go out on another killing spree. He didn’t blame him. He wasn’t going to fight it, he’d let Peter take him to the Company. He’d accept it willingly.
Sylar looked down at his feet. His voice barely above a whisper. “Alright I understand.It’s probably for the best. It’s fitting for you to be the one to take me in. I promise I won’t put up a fight, I’ll go quietly."
“What are you talking about?” Sylar looked up into Peter’s eyes.
“You’re here to take me in to the Company, aren’t you?” A shocked expression crossed Peter’s face.
“No, why would I?” It was Sylar’s turn to look shocked.
“Why would you? How about because I attacked and almost killed your mother.”
“But you didn’t kill her.”
“No, but I tried to.”
“You still chose not to. Sylar I understand. My mom provoked you. She wanted to convince me that you hadn’t changed. Seems like her plan backfired, now she’s starting to believe that you have.”
“I don’t understand. How did I demonstrate anything other than the fact that I’m still nothing more than a monster?” Sylar couldn’t help it, tears were starting to form in his eyes again. He tried to wipe them away and felt Peter’s warm hand rub up and down his shoulder. He looked up in surprise.
“Sylar, you didn’t hurt her. My mom’s fine. The only thing damaged was that old desk and I’m pretty sure it had it coming.” Sylar smiled at joke. “So you got mad? Big deal. In the end you were still the one in control, not your powers.”
“Thank you Peter.” Peter smiled.
“Don’t mention it Gabriel.” Hearing Peter say his birth name made Sylar feel almost elated, but then Angela’s words wormed their way back into his mind. What would he do if Peter started seeing somebody? What would happen if his jealousy got the best of him? He couldn’t risk that with Peter. He sighed. He knew he still had to leave.
“Peter I still think it would be best if I move out.” Peter just shook his head.
“How many times do I have to tell you? No, that isn’t happening.” Sylar pushed past Peter angrily, frustrated that Peter would never be able to grasp the kind of trouble his righteousness could land him in.
“Peter you don’t understand.” Peter whirled around to face him.
“Explain it to me then,” Peter said as he pushed Sylar down onto the couch and sat down beside him. Sylar grasped for words.
“This... dynamic between us could really cause problems. I don’t want you to get hurt,” Sylar said exasperatedly. Peter shot him a puzzled look.
“I thought we were friends?”
“We are.” Sylar’s stomach did a little flip. It felt so good to hear Peter say it.
“Then what’s the problem?” Sylar turned his head and looked away. He couldn’t tell Peter. Then he felt Peter’s hand gently pull his face back towards his.
“Gabriel...” Sylar couldn’t stand it. He grabbed the back of Peter’s head and pulled them together, mashing his lips up against Peter’s. The smell of Peter filled his nostrils and he drunk it in like a man dying of thirst, then he realized how Peter’s body had stiffened against his and he released him instantly, shocked at what he had done and disgusted at allowing his impulses to take control again. He didn’t dare to look Peter in the eye and see the look of horror he knew was waiting for him there. That is why it came as something of a surprise when he felt Peter’s hands grip either side of his face and bring his lips back to meet his. His eyes were blown wide with shock as he struggled to push away.
“Wait. I don’t understand.” Peter rubbed his hand along the side of his face and smiled.
“What’s to understand? I want to kiss you.” Peter punctuated his point with a long, drawn-out chaste kiss. Sylar looked at him with pupils blown wide with desire and eyes half-hooded by pleasure. His mind had seemed to shut down and he surrendered to the new sensation of complete and utter bliss.
“Alright I guess, as long as we’re on the same page,” he said with something of a stupid grin plastered on his face. Peter’s face broke out into a crooked smile and he leaned in again for a kiss that was anything but chaste.
His lips moved against Sylar’s slowly, massaging each other. One of his hands reached up for a loose grip in Sylar’s hair, while the other was rubbing gentle circles into the back of Sylar’s neck with its thumb. Sylar had wrapped his arms around Peter’s waste and was hugging their bodies close together. Gently Peter nibbled at Sylar’s bottom lip, begging him to open them. Sylar did with a soft gasp and Peter plunged his tongue into his mouth. He gently caressed Sylar’s tongue with his own, savoring his taste. Sylar let out a soft moan before responding hungrily in kind. Pools of warmth and pleasure were blossoming throughout Peter’s body and he languored in the sensation of his peaking arousal.
Slowly he pushed Sylar’s body backwards, pressing his back down into the cushions. He moved forward and slipped between Sylar’s legs. Pulling back for a quick breather, Peter took in the sight before him. Sylar’s chest was heaving with quick labored pants. His face was flushed, his hair disheveled, his lips swollen and red from kissing. In that moment he looked more vulnerable, more happy, and more drop-dead gorgeous than Peter had ever seen him. Peter smiled to himself and bit down on his lower lip. He certainly hoped that Sylar was up for more than kissing.
--The End--
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I do plan on continuing this fic into at least one other part. This part was already getting too long for my liking and I thought it might be better if the really smexy part was devoted its own section. ; )